


See Hear Speak

by Blightedsoul



Category: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark, Evil, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blightedsoul/pseuds/Blightedsoul
Summary: BlindDeafMuteSee no evilHear no evilSpeak no evil





	1. Blind

**<strike></strike> _See_ **

Mike Wheeler was blind. For reasons unknown to him, his family and doctors all over the world he had been born blind, but that’s how it always is I suppose. His eyes were a dull clouded grey and he was often silent or seemingly elsewhere, a direct opposite to his twin Richie Tozier. While Richie could (and would) talk for hours on end Mike would simply stare at any certain point in silence, any attempt to make conversation with him was mostly unsuccessful. The only people who could get through to him were his resident trashmouth of a brother and a close friend, El. He wandered off by himself quite often too, always in the same direction, towards the same decaying house that gave just about everybody in the town the creeps. Whenever he slowly staggered towards it Mike would smile, it was always unnerving and nobody knew why, but his entire face lit up as a wide grin broke out on his face each and every time.

_It happened at least 8 times a week._

For the most part no one asked. Nobody spoke about his wandering, or the fact he would randomly go into hyper focus on a shadow in the room, or look up and smile at what the others couldn’t see. What was crystal clear to him. It was almost as if people forgot he was blind, it was either that or they chose to ignore that delightful little fact, they also chose to ignore whatever he paid such close attention to.

The darkness.

Not necessarily darkness as the absence of light, but darkness as in your deepest fears. The darkness that makes your blood run cold, gives you goosebumps and has you looking over your shoulder at every given opportunity to do so. While to others it was a source of anxiety, like smoke you could barely see through it crushed any semblance of happiness, it bought him joy. Made Mike feel safe and comforted, the rotting house was where it was strongest and so naturally it was where he most desperately wanted to go. The pull towards the long abandoned place seemed to resonate deep within his bones, telling him it was safe that the dark, rotten house was the safest place to be and in all honesty there was no reason for him to argue.

Mike had been walking towards it again, this time faster than his usual pace, with more purpose than previously when he felt someone harshly pull his arm back. _Away, away from home._ He reached towards the door handle, as if by some miracle he could reach it and fling the door open. Only then would he be at peace, be happy. A familiar voice overpowered the one in his head, the voice was shouting and he easily placed the name to the overly dramatic sounds. “Richie.” Mike whispered “Please stop shouting at me.” Richie - who had been cut off mid rant - stared at his twin with a solemn expression he knew the other couldn’t see.

“Mike, you can’t keep doing this. Everyone is so worried all the time because people keep going missing and each time you leave we think you might join them. Wherever they might be.” Richie sighed, mostly to himself before pulling Mike into a tight hug. “I’ll stop shouting when you stay home, safe where we won’t need to worry. So we can make sure nothing hurts you.”

Mike didn’t know why they worried, the dark would never, _ever_ hurt him, it swore it wouldn’t because he wasn’t like all the others. He was special, he was chosen to be with the dark and only two other people were but he didn’t know them. Not yet at least. Soon he would, he _knew _he would, it promised him that the others were never far away that once they were all three together is that house it would be perfect. The end would be perfect. 

A few days passed and he paid no mind to whatever their teacher was blabbering on about, choosing to instead abesent mindedly smile as poor Isabella Miller, who had decided to fall asleep in Ms Smiths class, began to twitch and frown as it gave her nightmares on each of her worst fears. First her being stuck in the smallest possible space, with spiders crawling all over her body, then pulling her down beneath the water and taking any chance of her resurfacing away. Mike couldn’t necessarily see what she did, but he knew what she was experiencing, he heard her quiet whimpers in front of him. Felt the fear radiating off of her in waves, she genuinely was terrified and Mike loved that. It made him happy, a simple reminder that the darkness was never far away.

Richie Tozier didn’t understand.

He constantly asked himself why Mike did what he did so frequently, how his brother managed to walk with a purpose, somehow avoiding all obstacles although he couldn’t see. How he managed to unlock the front door every night, without keys or sight and why his parents chose to ignore this. Every time Mike left Richie was the one who went to find him, each and every time without fail and he did not understand why he bothered in all honesty. Put like that it sounds harsh, probably because it is, but he honestly couldn’t deal with the responsibility of his twin especially when he had everything else to deal with. It should be his parents job to go and find their son each night, or to at least be worried as they heard the door unlock and subsequently open. But to them Mike was a lost cause, a mistake clearly skirting between reality and some other place and therefore the responsibility for him fell to Richie. More often than not he’d much rather just not take any responsibility at all, yet each time he came close morals won out to lessening stress or getting more sleep.

**24/10/17 10/24/17**

For Richie the day had been particularly awful, first he woke up late and in his haste to leave managed to fall down the stairs. No major damage just a couple of bruises and a chipped tooth, then he remembered his twin and had to rush back up the deathtrap - stairs - to wake him. “Mike!” He clapped as loudly as he could “Mike!” His calls were met with silence, which concerned him as he started to realise other things were off about the day. Where were his parents? Why hadn’t they woken him? How was the house so quiet?

Who else was breathing? 

Suddenly it was very cold, Richie felt goosebumps run up his arms and all over his body before just one feeling hit him like a truck. _Pure fear_. He didn’t dare look over his shoulder as he haphazardly grabbed his school bag before running out the door and away as fast as he possibly could, making it to school over an hour late but being excused as he was visibly shaken. When asked to recount whatever happened he was silent, incredibly out of character for him, therefore worrying anyone and everyone who knew him well. “Richie?” He looked up to see Beverly’s blue eyes full of pity. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He mumbled “I’m fine don’t worry.” The smile he offered was clearly fake, but none of the losers questioned him and so the topic was dropped. Giving Richie just enough time to remember something very important. “Oh shit, Mike!”

Mike has in fact wandered yet again. He currently stood outside the Well house one arm reaching out in front of him, both for safety and to be pulled in. _Home _he thought to himself, a smile broke out onto his face as he slowly staggered forwards through the door. Instantly he felt something cold touch his face, something similar to hands but at the same time not. Like a feather, wispy, not solid enough to hold yet able to put a minimal amount of pressure, to evoke feeling. He leaned into the light touch “I’m sorry I took so long.” Once the temperature dropped he knew he’d been forgiven, the door violently swung shut behind him, causing him to both jump and smile impossibly wider. “I promise not to leave.” The darkness curled around him then, pulling him further into the rot and decay, but no objections were made because this was where he belonged.

**24/01/18 01/24/18**

Mike had been missing for three months. Richie had not stopped looking. Every minute longer that his twin was gone he blamed himself more, why hadn’t he noticed. Why had it taken him so long? Why didn’t anyone else seem to care? Sure they held an assembly at school, but nobody really seemed to care other than him and the losers. It physically hurt knowing that if Mike never came back he may be the only one to truly be affected, while the other losers cared it wasn’t because his twin was gone but instead due to the fact Richie was so badly hurt by his disappearance. 

He wished that it was different.

** **

_** See - **Alive and well. Resides in the house of horrors. _

**Get ready for the show**


	2. Deaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence

**_Hear_ **

Bill Denbrough was deaf. For reasons unknown to his parents, doctors and just about everyone he was deaf, but that’s how it always is I suppose. Once his parents were told he could not hear they were devastated, for years all they’d wanted was a child. A boy in fact, their perfect little boy who they’d be able to talk to and love with all their hearts and while they got a boy, he was broken. They couldn’t speak to him like they’d wanted to, they also (unreasonably) believed they couldn’t love him. At first it wasn’t like that, they tried their damned hardest to love him and move past his disability. They taught him sign language, taught themselves asl, making the whole family relatively happy for several years. However when Georgie was born both Zack and Sharon were over the moon, they finally had their perfect son, no silence no sadness just simple perfection in their eyes. Once Bill was seven and his younger brother came into his life, everything got a thousand times better.

Georgie was a little ball of sunshine, he easily brightened up anyone’s day just by talking to them in his sweet little voice, reassuring them everything would be alright. Anyone and everyone he encountered walked away from him with a grin, it was sweet and while Bill couldn’t hear anything he was content with just seeing it. The almost magical affect Georgie had on people, in some strange way it almost distracted him from the pure black figure that never seemed to leave his side. 

Almost.

Whether it was out the corner of his eye or just there clear as day in front of him, this thing followed him pretty much everywhere he went. Just lurking and it put people off, he knew this because they would always become uncomfortable whenever he was near, like something was bothering them but they weren’t quite sure how to deal with it. In the end people attributed the anxiety to his presence, whenever Bill was approaching they’d scurry away like bugs - isolating him, leaving him alone.

Alone. He always was alone. In school, on the way home, anywhere other than his house. At least until Georgie went missing that was. Then his house was somehow more silent than it always is for him, his parents were clearly distraught as they were left with their failure son, their _mistake._ Bill hated being alone, he made paper boat after paper boat after paper boat and would move them along his desk pretending Georgie was still next to him, pretending he was still home... From the after his brother was taken the _thing _that was always by his side became bigger. It had more of a presence, it was darker, it fed off of the fear. For a short time it was Bill’s salvation, guiding him away from the light, from the glares sent his way, from the whispers he couldn’t hear. Away from the people, away from the world yet towards the house.

A few months had passed since the disappearance of Georgie Denbrough and Bill woke to someone violently shaking his shoulders, his mother was saying something, she was pulling him up and still shouting but he had no idea what she needed. He was dragged down the stairs before ripping his arm from her vice-like grip, he rapidly signed to her ‘what is happening?’ She stared blankly at him for a minute before remembering why he hardly ever spoke and hadn’t reacted at all, she’d given up on sign language a while ago but remembered a small amount ‘brother back’. His eyes widened in disbelief before a smile broke out onto his face, his mother took hold of his arm again to pull him towards the police station. Bill knew they were right once he saw the tell-tale yellow raincoat, within what seemed to be seconds Georgie was wrapped around his legs and clinging to him tightly, tears fell from his eyes and Bill hoped they could stay together forever.

However all good things must come to an end.

Bill felt a tug on his arm again, it was the middle of the night and he sighed willing his mother to go away, except this time it wasn’t his mother, it was the thing. The one that stayed with him every second, the one that kept people away, the one that never ever left him_ alone. _Now it was trying to take him somewhere. He didn’t know how to react, or what to do or who to tell so he let himself be pulled, through the streets; past the school; past the clearing and it finally stopped before the house. If he could hear he would’ve been told countless times how dangerous this place was, how anyone who entered never came back out, how the people who passed it heard voices of someone, sometimes calling, sometimes laughing it gave everybody an uneasy feeling. Now Bill stepped through the doors without hesitation, into the house the town had been warned about, the one where lives had been lost.

The house of horrors.

“Hey.” His eyes widened as he spun to face the voice, it came from a boy around his age. The boy was clearly blind, his eyes were clouded but he was looking directly at Bill. “Why are you so quiet? Didn’t you hear me?” However that was the problem, he _did _hear him, for the first time in his life he heard someone speak. It was new, it was nice. Everyone would most likely name it a miracle, somehow he could hear this boy and only him. He signed to the strange boy ‘what’s your name?’ 

‘M’

’I’ 

‘K’

’E’

He smiled and pulled Mike into a hug, the other boy looked confused but smiled nonetheless. After all they’d both somehow done the impossible.

Bill could hear.

Mike could see.

**See - ** _Alive and well, resides in the house of horrors _

_**Hear -** __Safe_, _resides_ _in the house of horrors_

_ Returnee senses - sight, hearing _

**Get ready for the show.**

** Get ready for the show.**


	3. Mute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat got your tongue?

_ **Speak** _

Now Stanley Uris’ situation was a unique one, while he had not be born unable to speak, he currently could not and would never be able to again. His ability to form words, or even many sounds had been taken from him when he was just six years old. With the help of a private doctor and negligent parents Stan lost his tongue, he was old enough to remember the sensation of talking or tasting, old enough to wonder why they’d taken it away. 

However to his parents this was not a problem, the questions were. Silence brings questions they learnt, teachers asking the reason for Stans sudden silence, relatives wondering why they couldn’t see the small boy anymore, social services begging them for a reason why. Why do this to an innocent child? Who benefits? What did he do wrong?

That right there was the problem, he hadn’t _done _anything wrong. His parents stated that he worried them and would often mumble to thin air as if having a conversation, in their sick twisted minds it was the easiest way to shut him up. It had been ten years since his right to speak was stolen, ten long years in care being taken in and thrown out by family after family. The reasons varied.

“His silence is disturbing.”

“He just doesn’t seem to fit with _our_ family.”

“I’m sure somebody else can give him a better home.”

“The screaming is too much to handle.”

In the end they kept him in the care home, it was easier that way for both them and him. Being given back over and over and o_ver _again lowered his mood more and more, leading to him being diagnosed with severe depression. It took a lot out of Stan to just get up in the morning, to face the day ahead, he quite honestly believed he wouldn’t have been able to do it without the help of the shadow. Throughout his life it had been the only thing that never hurt him, never left his side and he was grateful for that. Being alone was the only thing that scared Stan more than his tormentors, with nothing and no one to protect him, it was hell on earth (though if you asked anybody else they’d say his life already was). Thanks to the shadow he knew he’d never truly be alone, even if the other ran from him screaming and sobbing.

Despite his inability to speak he had somehow managed to befriend a fiery girl named Beverly. Once again Stanley Uris’ situation was a unique one, on the fateful day Bev decided they’d be best friends (forever) he’d been simply minding his own business flicking through a book, after all reading was his favourite thing to do after birdwatching when she stomped right in through the doors of the home, confidence blazing. Her eyes almost immediately fell on him and panic began to set in, he shut his eyes in a weak attempt to will himself out of existence afraid of what’d she’d say. Or rather what _he _couldn’t.

Their friendship, however, was easy due to the fact he couldn’t talk, almost every day it was she read his mind saying just what he wanted to hear or say himself. She saw the shadow as well and (miraculously in Stan’s eyes) it didn’t drive her away, that’s when he knew what a true friend was, luckily for him he’d scored one of the most loyal friends to walk the damn earth. 

After a month of being best friends with Beverly Stan finally knew what it meant to be happy.

It was different to what the shadow had shown him, it was smiling when remembering how much fun was had one day, or feeling more like the sun than the rain, the day more than the night and so on. It was a warm feeling that spread all over his body, replacing what had been so _so _cold.

Over time the shadow became less and less prominent, occasionally appearing full force but mostly just in wisps as if it couldn’t fully show up. It was only ever fully there when Beverly wasn’t, which was a rarity at this point, for a short while he wondered what to do she was his best friend, but the shadow had been there from the start, mentioning it to her (well writing it down) just didn’t feel like the right thing to do so he kept it to himself. Feeling more relaxed in the short time the shadow was present than the hours where Beverly was instead, what had surprised him however was next to Bev he’d become pretty much invisible at school never bothered and constantly ignored, which funnily enough was exactly what he’d wanted.

It had now been three months, Stan’s life had become significantly better somehow with the only exception being that he’d only seen the wisps of the shadow once in the two months that had also passed. In a strange way it was refreshing, nobody ran from him anymore and Bev was always there to cheer him up on difficult days, as though she could sense his sadness she’d always know what to do. He began to wonder if the shadow and Bev would always remain separate, as if he could only have one at a time.

At least until the fateful day with the neibolt house. 

He and Beverly were walking side by side, she was lamenting on about some boy (Bob, Billy something beginning with a B) when it emerged full force right before them. Stan’s eyes widened, which Bev took notice of and stepped protectively in front of him. “Can you see this?” Her eyes portrayed a strange mix of both fear and confidence, she was rigid in her posture but clearly wouldn’t easily be moved once he nodded her shoulders relaxed slightly and she lifted her head eyes blazing. “Go away.” 

His face fell at this, he moved past Beverly and faced the shadow himself, arms slightly extended as if he were about to fly away. A sign, that he still trusted it, that he wouldn’t let it get hurt but also wouldn’t let it hurt Bev.

It’s response was unexpected to say the least.

Within a moment it had wrapped around both him and Bev, dragging them into the house at lightening speed. Once inside it dispersed climbing up the walls and settling into each and every corner making the already abandoned house darker - even less homely than it had already been.

“Well well well.”

Both Stan and Bev spun around to come face to face with who (or what)ever was speaking, much to their surprise a young boy their age stared back indifferent, another boy with white eyes just behind him.

_ “What do we have here?”_

** _See -_ ** _ Alive and well_

** _Hear -_ ** _ Alive and well_

_**Speak - **Alive and well_

_An unknown entity has been welcomed into the house._

_ **Identification: ** _ _Spirit of fire _

**Get ready for the show.**

**Get ready for the show.**

**Get ready... _The show is about to begin. _**


End file.
